


Nuclear Family

by terrys_chocklit_orange



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, feelings with porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 07:40:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10271654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terrys_chocklit_orange/pseuds/terrys_chocklit_orange
Summary: "He tells Victor everything, but he can't tell him about this. What would Yuuri say? That he longs for something that is biologically hopeless? That, even before he and Victor met, he imagined being pregnant with Victor's child? That since they've been together, rather than letting go of this literally impossible dream, Yuuri's actually wanted it more? It's ludicrous. Even Victor, who has more than his share of flights of fancy, would think he's insane. So Yuuri keeps it to himself." (No MPREG.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Yuri On Ice Kink Meme prompt: "'It's enough to make even me, a man, pregnant!' Kind of surprised that I really haven't seen this come up in fics yet. Yuuri having a breeding kink and either fantasying about knocking Victor up or being pregnant himself -dealers choice. Just roleplay or fantasy please, no actual pregnancy." 
> 
> I hope it fits the bill, although it turned out more emotional than kinky.

When Yuuko gets pregnant again, Yuuri is the first to know. 

“Congratulations!” He puts an arm around her as they sit rinkside at the Ice Castle, drinking tea from a Thermos. He scans her body, although of course it's much too early to see anything. Yuuko only took the test a few hours ago. “That's great, Yuuko.” 

“Yeah.” Yuuko smiles, but it's weak, and it doesn't reach her eyes. 

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing. It's just...” She looks up at Yuuri. “The triplets just turned thirteen. Takeshi and I were starting to talk about what we were going to do when they were out of the house. Now, we're starting over. I don't know how he's going to feel about it.” 

“He's going to be thrilled,” Yuuri replies, with confidence. “I mean, sure, it might come as a bit of a shock at first, but he loves being a dad, and he's so good at it. He'll think this is wonderful news, I know it.” 

Yuuko nods. This time, her smile is surer, more convinced of itself. “You're right, Yuuri. I knew it was the right thing, telling you.” She leans over to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “Thanks.” 

“You're welcome,” he answers, breezily. He sips the tea and pretends there's not a kernel of jealousy, hard and bitter, lurking beneath his genuine happiness. 

He and Victor have talked about having children, but always in a vague, abstract way. At some point in the undefined future, they might adopt, although Yuuri doesn't know how they would begin to do that, or they might find a surrogate, somewhere. Even after seven years together and five years of marriage, the discussions are never concrete. No decisions are made. Yuuri doesn't mind, not really. He's only thirty, and he just retired from competitive skating. He has his whole life to think about kids. 

Still, there's a part of him, a small but persistent part, that can't help but imagine what it would be like to surprise Victor with news like Yuuko's. It's a dangerous road to travel, Yuuri knows that, but he still pictures Victor's reaction—shock, definitely, but also astonished joy—the excitement they would share, the fascination with which they would both watch Yuuri's body change and grow to accommodate the new life within. Victor would want nothing but the best for their baby. He would spend a fortune on the finest nursery furniture, the cutest and most intellectually stimulating toys, the sweetest little outfits. When the baby was born, they would adore it beyond measure, because it was _their_ child, a genetic combination of Yuuri and Victor, physical evidence of their love and something—someone—created out of their feelings for one another. 

It will never happen, obviously. It's stupid to feel sad about that, but stupid feelings are Yuuri's specialty, it seems. _Don't be an idiot_ , he tells himself sternly, as he hugs Yuuko once more and leaves the Ice Castle. _Forget about it._

It's easier said than done. Over the next few days, Yuuri's mind drifts back to the fantasy more often than it ever has before. The tiniest things seem to trigger it. Seeing a couple with a baby checking into the onsen. Passing a heavily pregnant woman in the market. Even the sight of Victor holding up a dirty, armless, one-legged doll the ancient Makkachin unearthed on the beach is enough to bring tears to Yuuri's eyes, and he has to look away. 

“Are you all right, darling?” Victor asks, his beautiful face creased with concern. 

“Fine.” Yuuri snaps. He tells Victor everything, but he can't tell him about this. What would Yuuri say? That he longs for something that is biologically hopeless? That, even before he and Victor met, he imagined being pregnant with Victor's child? That since they've been together, rather than letting go of this literally impossible dream, Yuuri's actually wanted it more? It's ludicrous. Even Victor, who has more than his share of flights of fancy, would think he's insane. So Yuuri keeps it to himself. 

At least, he tries to, until the worst happens. 

It comes about a week after Yuuko shares her news with her family. 

“You were right,” she tells Yuuri afterward, beaming. “Takeshi is thrilled. And the girls can't wait. This kid is going to have five parents.” 

That night, Yuuri and Victor are together in bed, in their little house on the outskirts of Hasetsu. It's not a flashy place, but as soon as Yuuri saw it, he had to have it. It was love at first sight. 

“I know exactly how you feel, sweetheart,” Victor said, when Yuuri told him. The look on his face let Yuuri know he wasn't talking about the house. Yuuri blushed, Victor kissed him right there in front of the estate agent, and they signed the sale papers later that day.

Now, Victor is in an even more amorous mood than he was then. His hands wander while he serves Yuuri dinner. He pushes up behind Yuuri as Yuuri loads the dishwasher, pressing his tongue to Yuuri's ear and an already eager erection to Yuuri's backside. 

Yuuri laughs, pretending to be scandalized. “Victor! You're an old married man.” 

“Hmm,” Victor agrees, planting a row of tantalizing kisses along Yuuri's neck. “And I'm afraid I have been neglecting my marital duties lately.” 

“I think you're doing all right.” After seven years, they still have sex at least three times a week. Yuuri has no idea if that's normal or not—he's not about to conduct a survey to find out—but it seems like a good amount to him.

“One should always strive to improve,” Victor declares. He spins Yuuri to face him, his arms firm around Yuuri's waist, and brings their mouths together. As Victor slips his tongue past his lips, his kisses soft and demanding all at once, Yuuri finds he can't disagree with that thought. 

Victor is an extremely skilled lover. At first, that both intimidated Yuuri and plagued him with jealousy. These days, Yuuri simply enjoys it. He lies face down on their bed, his legs bent beneath him and his ass shamelessly in the air, and lets Victor lick into him for what feels like hours. Ecstasy rolls through Yuuri's body in waves. He lets out a whimper, which only spurs Victor to dive in deeper, spreading Yuuri open with his hands while his tongue seeks out Yuuri's most secret, most pleasurable places. Sweat rolls down Yuuri's forehead as his cock strains, leaking onto the mattress. “Victor,” Yuuri pleads. Then, “Vitya. Please.”

"Yuuri, darling." Yuuri hears the hitch in his husband's voice, and Victor pulls away. 

Victor kisses Yuuri's back, then runs his tongue up between Yuuri's shoulder blades. Gently, he maneuvers Yuuri over. This is the way Victor always prefers it. “I want to see you, sweetheart,” he said, when Yuuri asked why. “I always want to see you.” 

Yuuri is ready. He hooks his legs around Victor, pulling him close. When Victor moves inside him, every over-sensitive nerve in Yuuri's body cries out. 

“Victor!” Yuuri gasps. At times like these, Victor loves to hear Yuuri's voice. In Japanese, Russian, English, it doesn't matter. Usually, Yuuri just lets out whatever comes to him. Today, it's mostly Japanese, murmurs of love and joy as Victor thrusts inside him, gripping Yuuri's thigh with one hand while reaching up with the other to caress Yuuri's face. 

“Yes,” Yuuri says, flicking out his tongue to lick Victor's thumb. “Yes, Victor.” Yuuri's pleasure spirals higher and higher. “Yes, just like that. You're amazing. You're perfect.” Victor's breathing is growing erratic, a signal that he's also getting close. Yuuri runs his hands through Victor's hair, pushing his face down to kiss Yuuri's chest. Victor wraps a hand around Yuuri's eager cock, stroking it up and down. “Oh, yes, Victor.” It's more of a groan. “Get me pregnant,” Yuuri cries, and comes. A moment later, Victor follows him over the edge. 

As Yuuri slowly returns to Earth, his first sensation is one of complete and abject humiliation. _He didn't hear me_ , Yuuri reassures himself, as he turns to bury his burning face in his pillow. Victor is lying with his eyes closed, his head resting on Yuuri's chest. _Even if he did, it was in Japanese. He doesn't know what I said._ Victor has picked up a lot of Japanese over the years, but that's not a phrase he's needed to learn. 

Yuuri lies quietly for a moment, trying to convince himself that's true. The come on his stomach begins to cool, but when he tries to sit up, to grab a shirt or a pair of underwear or something to wipe it off, Victor places a hand on Yuuri's hip, holding him down. “You should lie still.” Victor's voice is far away, dreamy. “You want to try and keep it in for as long as you can.” 

“Keep it...”

“It will give you a better chance of getting pregnant.” Victor sits up. His hair is disarranged, sticking up on all sides. Normally, Yuuri would find that adorable. Right now, he just wants to die. “Or maybe,” Victor goes on, before Yuuri can think of any remotely plausible explanation for his mortifying slip of the tongue, “you already are. We have a lot of sex, and we never use condoms.” He places one hand on Yuuri's stomach. It's become slightly pudgy in the months since his retirement, although he tries to keep up some sort of exercise regimen. “Maybe there's already a little baby growing in there.” Victor rubs Yuuri's belly. 

Yuuri tries to speak, but his throat is dry. He coughs, and tries again. “Would you...I mean, um, would you want that?” 

Victor smiles. “Of course. I would be thrilled to have a little Yuuri in my life.” 

“Or a little Victor.” 

“Or someone who is a little of both of us.” Victor presses his hand down. “I think I can feel her kicking.” 

“Her?” Yuuri can't stop grinning. It's just a silly game, but the fact that Victor would play it with him, and would treat it so seriously despite its inherent ridiculousness, makes Yuuri feel as though his heart might burst with love. 

“A father knows.” Victor takes Yuuri's hand and laces their fingers together, atop Yuuri's stomach. “Can you feel her, too?” 

“I...I think so.” 

“She's got strong legs. Good for jumps. She'll be doing triples before we know it.” 

“Triples?" Yuuri shakes his head. "Your daughter would do quads.” 

“As long as she doesn't neglect her artistic interpretation. It's not all about the jumps,” Victor says sternly to Yuuri's stomach. Yuuri laughs and Victor leans over, planting a kiss directly over Yuuri's belly button. He lingers there, his lips warm on Yuuri's skin. Yuuri raises a hand to brush back Victor's hair. 

“Yuuri.” Victor looks up, resting his chin on their joined hands. “Have you ever met my parents?” 

Yuuri blinks in surprise. “No. I haven't.” Victor never mentions them. The only guests he invited to their wedding were Yakov and Lilia, Yurio and Otabek, Mila, Georgi and the best man, Christophe. Everyone joked that there was something in the water at Hasetsu, because within a few weeks of the wedding, Yurio and Otabek were engaged, Yakov and Lilia were back together, Mila and Georgi announced they were dating, and Christophe had eloped with Yuuri's best man Phichit. 

“Something in the water, all right,” Mari grumbled, when she heard about it. “More like the fucking sake, if you ask me.” 

“There is a reason I don't care to see them,” Victor goes on. “Many reasons, in fact. Shooting out sperm does not make you a father, and carrying a baby does not make you a mother. There is a lot more to it than that.” 

“I know.” Yuuri does. And he knows he'll love any child he and Victor have, whether or not it's biologically related to either of them. “But thank you for saying it.” 

“I would give you anything I could, my darling.” 

Yuuri shifts his hands to Victor's shoulders, urging him up to lie beside him. “I've already got everything I want,” Yuuri says, kissing Victor's forehead. He means it. 

***

Two weeks later, Yuuri comes home from an afternoon of running the Ice Castle while a wan-looking Yuuko knelt over a toilet in the ladies' room—“I don't remember this happening when I was nineteen,” she complained miserably, on one of her rare appearances at the front desk—to find the house quiet and seemingly empty. As he's about to pull out his phone to text Victor, he hears a rustling in the spare bedroom. Following the sound, Yuuri pulls the door open and is immediately bowled over by a tiny panting ball of fuzzy white fur.

“Yuuri!” Victor cries. “Surprise!” 

The puppy in Yuuri's arms wriggles happily, then stands on its little hind legs to lick Yuuri's face, over and over. “I know it's not a baby,” Victor says, as Yuuri pulls off his newly-smudged glasses. “But Makkachin needs someone to keep him young. And I thought maybe you need someone to look after. Other than me.” He furrows his eyebrows. “As long as you don't forget about me, Yuuri.” 

“How could I ever forget about you, Victor?” It's a silly thought. Yuuri would even go so far as to call it impossible. 

The puppy yips, and Yuuri can't help himself. He buries his nose in its soft fur, hoping that will hide his tears. 

It doesn't. “Darling!” Victor cries in dismay. He moves to wrap his arms around Yuuri. 

“It's fine,” Yuuri says. “Really. I'm just happy, that's all. Really, really happy.” He holds up the puppy, taking in its sweet face, its wet black nose, the pink tongue poking from between its tiny teeth. A feeling of deep, warm contentment spreads through Yuuri's body. It takes him a moment to realize it's not only spreading internally. 

Looking down, Yuuri sees a distinctive puddle on his lap, soaking into his jeans. 

“The breeder said she is not quite house trained yet,” Victor warns, belatedly. 

Yuuri doesn't care. “Give me a minute,” he says, “and we'll all go for a walk.” 

“To the beach?”

“We could go there first, then into town. Then to the onsen. Everywhere.” 

Yuuri had been tired, but now he feels anything but. He pulls out his phone. When it comes to posting on social media, he's never been in the leagues of say, Phichit or Yuri Plisetsky, but now, he leans close to Victor, holds up the puppy and snaps a picture. _Our new addition_ he types, and posts the picture. Then he kisses Victor, hands over the puppy, and hurries to get changed. He can't wait to show off his family—his amazing, perfect, flawless family—to all of Hasetsu.


End file.
